


more real than a

by sky_reid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Demons, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Scents & Smells, Succubi & Incubi, Supernatural Elements, a bit of, a hell of a lot bullshit mythology i just made up, and a bit of, not that it really makes a difference tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis doesn't plan on finding a mate at a human halloween party. and yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	more real than a

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucdarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/gifts).



> i have no idea what this is tbh but i hope u like it? i had a tough time choosing between prompts and deciding what to write and this was originally gonna be just porn but then i imagined louis cutely not being able to control how his wings act and this happened instead
> 
> so louis has little horns above his ears, curled like on a mountain goat, slightly pointy ears, all black eyes, large membrane wings like a bat only they're blue and have a pattern, small claws on his fingers and toes and a long tail and his skin is the same colour as normally

It’s a bit embarrassing, really. Louis’ been attracted to humans before, he’s even had some more or less steady relationships with them over the centuries, but he’s never been _this_ affected. His wings are arching up and forward as if to protect a mate and his tail keeps curling around the boy’s legs and waist with absolutely no input from him. The roots of his horns itch to be touched. This has never happened before.

 

Louis leans in a bit closer, enough that their foreheads brush, enough that he can feel the boy’s breath on his lips, smell the chemical scent of an expensive body wash that doesn’t manage to cover the bitterness of his sweat and the sweet, earthy aroma of his skin. Louis’ mouth is watering and he hasn’t even properly touched the boy yet.

 

They’ve been dancing together for a while now, he thinks. He’s never been good at judging human time, but the music has changed more than a dozen times, couples around them have come and gone and the amount of food on the table in the corner has diminished drastically. And yet, the boy hasn’t expressed the desire to dance with anyone else. Louis knows that by current human standards that’s unusual for someone his age at a party.

 

There was a time, a couple hundred years ago maybe, when just standing this close to a human would’ve had Louis reprimanded by his superiors. There was a time when he had to sneak into people’s bedrooms while they slept and take what he needed to survive without them ever knowing about it. There was a time when his species was on the brink of extinction, in hibernation more than awake, supervised and under strict orders, all so they could simply continue to exist. Times have changed though. Louis is eternally grateful for whatever chain of events he slept through that led to the sexual liberty of youth today. It’s been decades since he’s had to starve and longer still since he’s had to drain someone dry just to have enough to keep him going. It’s a mutually beneficial development, this new world where he can go out and have sex any time he wants, take a little bit a lot more often and leave his partners virtually unscathed.

 

He crowds closer to the boy in front of him, presses their bodies together so he can feel the warmth of him. The boy smiles and buries his face in Louis’ neck, places a sweet, wet kiss there. His large hands squeeze Louis’ waist before moving down to his hips. Louis can tell he’s hard, can also tell he’s big, the bulge of his cock grinding down on Louis’ thick thigh. The strong smell of arousal in the air makes Louis’ skin tingle pleasantly and his wings shiver in anticipation. He didn’t come out looking for sex tonight, never does on Halloween, but he thinks, maybe, tonight he can make an exception.

 

The thing about revealing his true self to this boy is that it could either go really well or really poorly. Worst case scenario, the boy freaks out, threatens him and Louis has to ask Liam to make him forget the night ever happened. Best case scenario, the boy accepts him, likes him, sticks around. And then, all too soon, Louis loses him. Louis’ learned a long time ago that human life is fleeting, short, that it ends abruptly and too soon. He’s also learned that no matter how much he loves his humans, he can’t do anything to change that and the harder he tries, the deeper he falls, the worse it is when it’s all over. And this boy, oh, Louis already knows this boy could destroy him.

 

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” the boy whispers in his ear as his hands grope Louis’ arse, narrowly missing the point where his tail grows out above it. The boy sounds drunk, voice deep and words slurring together. He’s not, Louis knows because he’s been watching all night.

 

He lost Zayn and Liam pretty early on, watched them disappear into the crowd looking for potential partners for the night. Louis can’t blame them even if it’s a bit frustrating that the one night his friends feel free, he’s the opposite of it. Usually Zayn and Liam stick to the forest, rarely come out into the city and even then only at night, while Louis is the one who lives most of his life with humans, passes as one of them, moves among them freely. It’s different tonight; with their true forms acceptable to humans Liam and Zayn can do whatever they want, but Louis can’t do the one thing he usually does with humans, not without risking exposure.

 

He hadn’t intended to do much at this party either, was instead meant to make sure nobody went too far with the humans but one sweep of his eyes over the room and he forgot everything about why he was there. The boy he’s dancing with right now, with his glittery white wings and a crooked halo, was sitting in the corner with a friend, a blond boy dressed as a very poor representation of a leprechaun, holding a slice of pizza in one hand and laughing so hard bits of food were coming out of his mouth. It wasn’t necessarily attractive, yet Louis found himself drawn to the boy. He felt his ears perk up, his wings spread out in a desperate attempt to draw attention and his tail knocked over a whole shelf of books on the bookcase behind him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off the boy since.

 

He threads his fingers through the boy’s long silky hair and scratches gently at his scalp, mindful of how sharp his claws are compared to human nails. He feels the boy bite him a little, soothe the skin unnecessarily with his tongue. It sends a spark down his spine and makes him moan, wings curling around them to hide them from the rest of the world and tail swishing through the air to wrap around the boy’s waist. He quickly gets himself under control as much as he can and whispers, “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” He hasn’t even thought about it, hasn’t consciously decided he wants to take this boy away and potentially change his life; the words come out as if on instinct, the same way his body reacts to the boy and his proximity. Louis should hate it, he always does feel so uneasy on Halloween, exposed to the human world as he is without his deceptive magic to protect him from prying eyes, finds the lack of control over how much of what he feels and thinks his body projects unnerving, but it feels right with this boy. Feels right in a way it never has before, not even with the few lovers he’s taken before.

 

The boy kisses his cheek and takes his hand. “Where do you want to go?” he asks.

 

Louis knows he should probably say upstairs, it’s where he’s seen other couples go, where he can hear them from. Instead he says, “Out.”

 

It’s easier to breathe outside, the usual smells of wet soil and drying grass and fresh air like a cleanser to Louis’ overloaded senses. He looks back at the house they just left. A few decades ago there was a family living there, a young couple with a little girl. Louis remembers because Liam’s Maker killed them days before they were supposed to move out. Ever since then humans have been calling the house haunted. It used to repel people and keep them away. Now it seems to attract them.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Oh.” Louis can feel his wings droop submissively at the rumble of the boy’s voice. He forces them to stand back up. Names are such a human thing, he thinks. He has one, of course, has had it for more than two hundred years, ever since he started really living as a part of the human world. It almost feels like a part of him by now. “Louis,” he says, turning away from the house and back to the boy. Immediately he can feel his tail reaching out and pulls it back before it can touch. “And yours?” he asks instead.

 

“Harry.”

 

Harry. At least it’s an inoffensive name, as far as modern human names go. Louis nods and purses his lips. Now that it’s just the two of them it’s so much harder to ignore the pull he can feel in the pit of his stomach. Harry smells so good to him, like wood bark and rain and sweet forest fruits and he _wants_ so badly, feels like he’s starving though he just fed yesterday, feels like he’s hungry for something specific. He doesn’t even notice that his tail is touching Harry’s ankle until Harry jumps and looks down. Louis blushes furiously, embarrassed at how his body’s betraying him like he’s a fledgling again and it’s his first time around a human and pulls his tail back, trying to make it look as limp and immobile as possible.

 

Harry scratches at his ankle and mutters, “Strange. Could’ve sworn I felt something moving.” Louis is blushing so much he can feel his ears twitching in embarrassment. And yet, his wings spread behind him, displayed to impress a mate. He quickly gathers them up and plasters them to his back. He’s not looking for a mate and he’s definitely not looking for a human one. “Oh, by the way,” Harry says as he adjusts the halo on his head again, then seems to think better of it and takes it off instead, leaving it on the creaky broken swing, “I’ve been meaning to tell you. That costume is, like, amazing. Honestly, wow.”

 

Louis smirks a bit at that. “Thanks,” he says. “Yours wasn’t bad either,” he adds stroking through the synthetic feathers of Harry’s wings.

 

Harry snorts. “Please. It was on sale. I was actually gonna come as a princess, had the tiara and the dress all picked out, but my sister stole the idea.” He says it in such a tone that Louis is not sure if he’s joking or not, but the image of Harry in a long dark green silk dress and with a silver tiara peeking out of his dark locks flashes before his eyes and makes him feel hot all over. “Can I touch it?”

 

Louis shakes his head to clear it. He takes a few shallow breaths, trying to avoid gulping down too much of Harry’s scent now that they’re standing close to each other again. “Pardon?”

 

“The costume, can I touch it? The wings at least. You’ve really thought of everything haven’t you? Got the tail and the horns too. Even have the little claws. And those contacts.”

 

Louis can’t help the little burst of laughter that escapes him. “Yeah, I really wanted it to look authentic, you know?” he teases. His wings threaten to spread out again, eager to impress Harry. Louis wants to slap them down and yell at them that Harry is a human, he’s not a potential mate. Louis can’t have a human mate because he wouldn’t survive losing them.

 

“Well, you’ve succeeded,” Harry says with a smile. Louis wants to laugh at his obliviousness, but Harry’s too cute to be mocked for long so he just shrugs one shoulder, shaking his wings out inconspicuously in the process. They never like being controlled, but tonight they are being exceptionally restless. They _really_ like Harry. _He_ really likes Harry. Harry who shocks him by reaching out and running his fingers gently down the slope of his wing. Louis doesn’t have the time to suppress the reaction and his wings twitch almost violently, shaking Harry’s hand off. “Wow,” Harry whispers, “they feel so real.” Louis blushes and shakes out his wings again. He plays it off as if he’s moving his entire body and not just his wings, but he’s not trying nearly hard enough to hide their movement. He might not have _consciously_ decided to tell Harry what he is, but he knows the decision’s been made. He shakes his wings out again as if that’ll make him forget how good Harry’s touch felt, how it sent sparks all over his body, how his wings wanted to wrap around him and never let him go.

 

“Come on,” he says, already walking towards the woods. Harry grabs his hand and laces their fingers together as he follows without question. He hums while they walk, skips over the tree roots and talks about random things like university and frog facts; his scent fills Louis’ nostrils, sharp and clean now, overwhelmed with happiness and curiosity, the arousal dimmed to just a slight note in the symphony of it. Louis still finds it just as incredible as when they were grinding together on the dance floor.

 

He’s only half-listening to Harry retelling a story that involves his sister and some ill-advised use of cooking utensils. He’s nervous. His skin warms under Harry’s touch and his wings tremble with the need to reach out, his tail swishing behind them, only kept at bay because Louis has had so much practice controlling it. He’s acting like this is his first seduction, barely capable of containing himself. Even his eyes water; he knows if he were less experienced, he’d have charmed Harry unintentionally by now. He hasn’t felt anything remotely like this since France, since Hannah, since over a hundred years ago. He hasn’t _wanted_ like this he thinks ever, a want that goes deeper than just satisfying his needs, a want that is more than lust and desire and hunger.

 

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Harry asks just as they arrive at Louis’ home. Liam calls it his lair and technically, he’s not wrong, that’s what his home is called, but the word gives Louis the heebie-jeebies, reminds him of the dark dank caves he used to hibernate in and is completely at odds with what he’s created for himself here. Well, what Zayn helped him create. It’s a pretty small clearing on a little hilltop, surrounded by tall trees that form a near full circle around it. The slope that’s unprotected by the trees leads into the stream; Louis’ covered it with small round rocks that he likes to lie down on to sunbathe. The rest of the clearing is covered in soft moss that he now steps into, pulling Harry with him. The bioluminescent plants and hundreds of fireflies provide a slightly eerie light that makes Harry’s pale skin look almost a ghostly ashy blue, but other than that Harry looks like he fits in here.

 

Louis’ heart beats faster as Harry spins around and takes it all in. His eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly open and he looks even more gorgeous here than he did back at the house. This time when Louis’ wings flutter open and his tail wraps around Harry’s ankle, Louis doesn’t stop them. Harry is too busy to notice anyway.

 

“Do you like it?” Louis asks, surprising himself with how thin and breathy his voice sounds. Surprising himself with how much it matters to him what Harry is going to think.

 

Harry laughs, a loud barking sort of sound that makes Louis’ heart skip a beat. “Do I _like_ it? Lou, it’s breath-taking,” Harry says. Louis almost feels like the sound of Harry’s voice, the sound of Harry’s _happiness_ runs through him like electricity. His wings shiver and spread out slowly. “How did you find this place?” Louis shrugs one shoulder. Before he can say anything though, Harry is pulling him closer and kissing him.

 

It’s like no other kiss Louis has ever experienced, and he doesn’t say that lightly. The moment their lips touch he’s gone, the high of it better than what he normally gets from sex with humans; Harry’s lips are soft and slightly wet, yielding under Louis’ tongue and sharp teeth easily and he tastes better than anyone Louis has ever had, all fresh sweetness and a bit of acidity to cut through. Louis kisses him like he hasn’t been touched in weeks, like he hasn’t had anyone in months, like he’s dying and Harry is his last chance and Harry kisses back just as desperately, mewling and shaking and holding onto Louis’ arms like stopping might kill him. Louis feels his wings wrap around them, feels the tips of them gently touching Harry’s back, his tail stroking up and down over the back of Harry’s calf. He lets it all happen, lets his body do what it wants and delights in how freeing it feels.

 

Harry sighs against his lips, slows the kiss down and licks into his mouth. His fingers comb through Louis’ hair giving it a few gentle tugs and his nails scratch lightly at the base of Louis’ horn, making him melt and purr. Everything Harry does must be on pure instinct, he can’t possibly have any experience with Louis’ kind, but he still does everything exactly right, offers the right amount of pressure and give, the right balance of aggression and submission; he’s perfect for Louis and Louis regrets ever laughing at anyone who suggested that their mate might be a human because he’s pretty certain he’s just found his. It’s a bit of a scary thought, more than a bit really, because Louis has long given up on finding a mate, all too aware of how slim his chances are and awakening that hope again, with a human and a human who doesn’t know about the supernatural yet, is risky.

 

Harry’s heart is beating so hard Louis can _hear_ it and when he puts his hand on Harry’s chest, he can feel the thump of it against his palm. Harry’s scent changes gradually, growing thicker with arousal once more, but before he can do anything about it Louis pushes him away and blurts, “It’s not a costume.” He’s never done it like this before, always looked human when he admitted to not actually being one and always knew the person for more than a few hours. He’s not sure what he’s doing if he’s being honest. His tail unwraps from Harry’s ankle, curls and uncurls nervously behind his back and his wings twitch randomly.

 

Harry blinks his eyes open slowly and for a second Louis worries he might have accidently charmed him, but then he looks closer and Harry’s eyes are clear of influence, if a little unfocused and wide. “What?” he asks, a confused frown forming between his eyebrows. Louis wants to soothe it away with kisses, something he hasn’t wanted to do for an adult human in a long time. Something ignites in the pit of his stomach then, a feeling he’s never had before, something warm and bright and beautiful, something that grows stronger the more he stares at Harry.

 

He shakes his head and steps away. His heart is beating hard and he can smell his own anxiety in the air, but he knows he has to do this. He stands still and spreads his wings purposefully. The moonlight seeps through the thin membranes painting the intricate blue shadow on the ground before him and Harry’s face. Harry’s eyes widen impossibly and he sucks in a small gasp. “It’s not a costume,” Louis repeats. “They feel real because they _are_ real. The wings and the tail and the eyes. Even the claws.” He holds his breath for as long as he can, too afraid of what he might sense from Harry to take a breath. Harry frowns and tilts his head, his lips forming a slight pout. Louis doesn’t need to smell him to know he doesn’t believe it.

 

“What do you mean, it’s real?” He’s shaking his head just slightly, almost imperceptibly, but the slight note of acrid fear fills Louis’ nostrils with his next breath and he knows Harry is slowly starting to piece everything together even if he refuses to believe it just yet.

 

“Please don’t freak out and please don’t run away,” Louis says quickly. The smell of fear grows sharper and Louis holds his hands up, knows he said the wrong thing. His wings fold in on themselves. “I mean, you can leave if you want. I won’t stop you. I won’t harm you. Please don’t be afraid of me,” he finishes quietly. Harry’s not the only cute boy in this town, Louis could go out and pick anyone up, could probably even do it right now and charm them so they won’t remember later, but Harry’s special, Louis can _feel_ it in his bones, in the tingle of his tail, in the flutter of his wings. He doesn’t want to let Harry go. He realises, of course, how possessive he’s being (like incubi tend to get over a mate, he thinks to himself, a pleasant warmth and cold panic both filling him at the thought) so he makes sure he’s not touching or influencing Harry in any way just in case. He notices the smell of fear is not as sharp as mere seconds ago, mitigated by something softer, gentler.

 

“What are you?” Harry asks quietly, leaning away from Louis and taking a half-step back. Not running yet.

 

“Not a very good costume if I have to explain it,” Louis attempts. He sees the corners of Harry’s mouth lift briefly and counts it as a win.

 

“A demon. I’d say incubus, but I could be wrong,” Harry says. He’s pulling on his bottom lip, playing with it while he talks, a nervous habit probably. His voice comes out surprisingly steady though.

 

“Yep,” Louis confirms. He tries to give Harry a reassuring smile, but Harry looks even more wary of him now.

 

“A sex demon.”

 

The smell of fear in the air sharpens again until it’s so strong Louis almost feels sick. He takes another step back even though moving away from Harry feels like his insides are being ripped out. Even then, the warm feeling in his belly doesn’t go away. He clings onto that as he tries to placate Harry. His body wouldn’t be telling him to pursue this if there was no chance and he knows by now to trust his instincts.

 

“I promise you, I haven’t done anything. And I won’t. I don’t do… _that_. Anymore.” It’s probably not the best opener _, hello yes I’m a demon and all the legends about my kind sneaking through windows and into the beds of unsuspecting sleeping specimens of your species are true_ , but something in him doesn’t allow him to lie to Harry. His wings come to wrap around his arms and Harry flinches when he sees them move. “I can explain. I can tell you everything,” he offers.

 

Harry just shakes his head. “Why did you bring me here if not to have sex?”

 

“I—“ Louis actually doesn’t have a good answer. Why _did_ he bring Harry here? Why is he doing any of this? Why does it bother him that Harry’s afraid of him? “This was a terrible idea,” he says out loud. He has no idea what he was thinking, bringing Harry here, to his _home_ , on Halloween, the one night when he can’t hide his true form, and telling him what he is. Did he expect Harry to just go along with it? Harry is a clueless human living in a world that doesn’t believe in the supernatural. Of course this was a bad idea.

 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees quietly. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just gonna… go.” His scent reveals a kind of sadness, a reluctance and still that sweet, gentle note, like lilies in spring, strong enough to dull down the bitterness of his fear. Still, he moves with determination when he takes a few steps back. He’s looking at Louis like he expects to be stopped. For a wild second, Louis almost does it, almost grabs Harry or charms him into staying. He hasn’t done it in a while, but it would be so easy and it would keep Harry there. It also goes against everything Louis believes in now and would be the definite proof to Harry that he has a reason to be afraid. Louis doesn’t want that. So he lets Harry leave.

 

*

 

November’s been exceptionally chilly this year. Even in Louis’ little space, even under Zayn’s protection, there’s still a biting breeze sweeping over the forest. Louis hisses at the cold when he dips his feet into the stream. His ankles look bonier than usual, like he’s lost some weight and he knows it’s got to be because he hasn’t fed since Halloween and he knows he should go back into the town and pick someone up, but he can’t. He hasn’t had an appetite in weeks and he still can’t stop thinking about Harry.

 

He presses his hand to his tummy. It’s still there, that feeling that Harry woke up in him, won’t go away. He digs his claws in until it hurts.

 

Stupid. To get so hung up on a human. To care so much.

 

To let Harry slip away.

 

He swings his legs, feet cutting through the water and sending droplets everywhere. A raven on the other bank gives him a dirty look and Louis flaps his wings aggressively at her until she flies away.

 

“So it wasn’t a dream.”

 

Louis is up on his feet in the blink of an eye. It’s funny, he hasn’t heard Harry speak that much, but he still recognises the voice immediately. The warmth in his belly grows and spreads to the tips of his fingers and toes and he finds himself smiling the moment his eyes find Harry. Harry looks soft and cuddly in his lilac jumper and with his curls all loose and windblown. He smells even better than Louis remembers, fresh and clean and so sweet, not a trace of fear marring the scent. His heart is beating fast, Louis can hear, but it’s not in fear.

 

“You look different,” Harry says, head tilted to the side. Louis looks down at himself, confused for a second before he realises he must have slipped into his human mask automatically. He shrugs one shoulder.

 

“This is how I look around humans. Unless it’s Halloween.” Harry’s eyes travel over his body, pausing above his ears and at his shoulders and then travelling lower. He makes a choked noise at something, the air suddenly filled with a heavy note of arousal and Louis becomes aware of the fact that he’s naked. It’s not something he’s ever been ashamed of and Harry’s reaction has his tail swishing excitedly through cold water, but he still creates the illusion of clothes. He’s learned that humans are quite particular about nudity.

 

Harry clears his throat. “Because Halloween is the only night when you can walk around as yourself?”

 

“Because it’s the only night when we have no choice.”

 

There’s just the slightest hint of fear in Harry’s scent when he asks, “We? There’s more of you?”

 

Louis shakes his head. “No, no more incubi in this area. But other creatures. Vampires, veelas, werewolves. There’s a crossroads demon living downtown.”

 

Harry laughs a bit and scrubs a hand down his face. “Incubi and crossroads demons,” he mumbles. He sounds amused more than scared and his scent only becomes stronger, doesn’t really change, so Louis lets himself hope. The feeling in his tummy that used to be just a spark is now an all-consuming fire and he remembers a sister of his explaining something similar. She used the human expression for it, the one that humans use to describe finding a mate. Falling in love.

 

“I didn’t expect you to come back,” Louis admits honestly.

 

His heart skips a beat when Harry replies, “Neither did I.”

 

“So why did you?”

 

Harry shrugs. “Don’t know. Guess I was curious.” He’s not lying from what Louis can tell, but that gentle floral note to his scent grows stronger at the question. Given a chance, one day Louis is going to figure out what that means.

 

“You can ask me anything,” he offers. If information about other species is what brings Harry to him, Louis is more than willing to share.

 

“I have a lot of questions,” Harry warns.

 

“I don’t mind.”

 

Harry sits down on the mossy ground and crosses his legs. He raises his eyebrows when Louis doesn’t react, points to the space next to him. Louis feels his cheeks flame up as he sits down next to Harry. Their knees brush together making Louis’ wings flutter in excitement. Harry’s smell mixes beautifully with the earthy, grassy smell of his home; Louis could get used to that.

 

“How come you look human now?” Harry asks, picking at a loose thread in his jeans.

 

“Magic.”

 

That grabs Harry’s attention. His smell grows more citrusy, the way it does when he’s curious. “You can do magic?”

 

“Not all of it, but some.”

 

“But you _can_ still look like… like _you_?”

 

Louis frowns. He’s not sure he understands the question. “This _is_ me.”

 

“No, this is an illusion,” Harry insists and oh, Louis gets it now. Humans and their obsession with being who they are like that phrase even means anything.

 

“It’s a version of me,” he argues.

 

“You don’t, um. You don’t have to do that with me. I want the real you.”

 

Louis feels a shiver run through him at the words, wings flapping excitedly behind him. Harry wants to see him. Harry wants _him_. He closes his eyes and lets the illusion drop. He hears Harry’s gasp, smells the shock that disappears quickly. He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring and taking in as much of Harry’s soothing scent as they can, and finally opens his eyes again, inexplicably nervous to see Harry’s reaction now. He finds Harry already looking at him, smiling.

 

“Your wings are beautiful,” Harry says. Louis feels the wings in question shiver, then spread out and close a few times as if to show off. He blushes a bit at how obvious he’s being. Harry doesn’t know (doesn’t know _yet_ ), but if any of his brothers and sisters saw him right now they’d never let him live it down. He’s virtually broadcasting every thought and emotion, completely unable to stop. “Not that the rest of you isn’t,” Harry adds then with a grin, the scent of spring and lilies wrapping Louis up like a warm hug. He smiles back, feeling for the first time in weeks excited again. He rubs a hand over his tummy where he feels like there’s a million fireflies floating around, lighting him up from the inside out and fluttering their wings.

 

He’s hungry again.

 

*

 

The last question Harry asks him that day is a slow “Can I kiss you?” just before their lips meet. Louis presses his hands harder into his face when he thinks about it now, lying awake on his front and listening to the sounds of the forest falling asleep around him. His wings flutter in excitement and his tail thumps against the ground at the thought of kissing Harry again. He doesn’t fall asleep for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> find me [on tumblr](http://captivekinqs.tumblr.com)


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